feeling triumphant hands buried in the sand and the sky sinks to the sea sinks in the hole my love and my friends are digging for no reason and for no reason i feel at peace and the water gossips but i can't make it out and i don't try day sleeping seedy and dreaming about oak hallways and cars from the fifties and losing and loving and singing yawn it out and my hair cries for help on the tv today they said beyonce is a size 8 now well i saw my body in the screen reflected and deflected the attack but still turned around three times before walking outside in my bathers (halter neck flattering cut sucking in hands over stomach modest apologetic mousy and pathetic) i'll be alright because i know i'll be alright because i do i'll be alright because i know i'll be alright because i do i'll be alright etc
As predicted the holidays have been rough for me. I know tides turn and everything's cyclic and we all just have to ride things out and I'm totally cool with that. The other day I got out of bed and went for a run just, and only just, because I wanted to, and that's an awesome start.
Last night I think I might've finally made the conscious decision to actually work, and work hard, for true happiness. There is no point in existing if you're not living. I think I've realised that 'happiness' is not a given; it is only earned through learning to balance contentedness within yourself, and the drive to become ~better~ ie. successful etc. I mean, of course, from my experience happiness comes in many shapes and forms and it can all be triggered by different things, and you know I love that, and I particularly love that sadness works in very much the same way. How lucky we are to be able to feel all these things at once!
I love the way my body curves in below my ribs and then out again at the thighs. I love the way my little wrists look at the end of my freckly muscly arms. I love the way my hair has withstood the abuse I have treated it with over the last few months. I love the way my strong lil legs can carry me all day through work and gym and gigs and never fail, not even one time! I am not stick thin, and that's OK, even if some gross little part of me is begging to differ. It's OK, I'm OK!!!
I will be successful. Even though we are taught to not bignote ourselves and to accept compliments with apologies I'm gonna say it: I will be successful and I will lead a successful, fulfilling, exciting and HAPPY life. If my confidence in this offends you then I don't really wanna talk to you so there.
I am sososo done with being my biggest H8R when I should really be my own biggest fan.
I know I know I've been MIA recently, and I'd love to say it's for some exotic reason, that I'm living out all of my whimsical gypsy dreams in a glorified luggage compartment headed for Udaipur, India at 2.30am (sounds much more glamorous than the reality). But really, I have been scalding my fingers on cutlery straight out of the dishwasher at work, picking uneaten bacon off of customers' plates and saving it for dogs that I like, singing the same line over and over and over into my computer only to dump the stupid thing altogether, and driving home at 1am crying real tears at this. Literally like the real 'oh no I am two decades old and I have so many things to do before the next two decades and I'm running out of time' weeping that happens in movies but is never, ever as glamorous as it is on screen, in real life.
you're the only friend i need sharing beds like little kids we'll laugh until our ribs get sore but that will never be enough.
I have been mostly unpredictable recently as my poor little body continues to accept the punishment I am constantly condemning it to - long work shifts with little to no break to my normal but gruelling exercise routine to high heels all night and lifting my heavy keyboard around like it's no big deal. I am much busier than I had anticipated on being over this period which I love and hate; I am tentatively looking forward to next week when I will be going to the beach for my dear friend Grace's 21st birthday extravaganza. For most of my friendship group 2014 will be the year that we all turn 21, which, to me, is positively terrifying as this is the large ~big~ birthday until I reach 30 (!) and I've always been very anxious about getting old and 'losing touch' etc. But of course it's silly to dwell on these things for too long because, while the right amount of fear pushes a person into action, too much will cripple them. And my worst nightmare is spending my whole life being afraid of something like getting old and then waking up one day and realising that I've become nothing but that.
nye. i'm singing with the cactus channel, just one song - a sprint up the mountain and down again, instead of jogging long distance. shouldn't have worn black lipstick, white dress and i look fat, pretty dumb, gotta do my roots again, that's what i get for choosing blonde. trip up the stairs, wrong shoes, take the mic stand down about ten years and forget to put it back up again. (i wish i could draw what i sing, i always try to, i always hold it between my fingers and move it where i want it to go, but i'm the only one who knows where it goes and where it came from and even then i'm not sure i'm not sure i don't know) stumble back into the crowd. henry bends over double to speak and i put my hands on my forehead because i'm pretty dumb. caught mid-cringe an old couple pat me on the shoulder and a little kid climbs through the fence while no one is looking. the line for the portaloos is going from here to east jesus and i'm thinking about where would be the safest place to hide from the fireworks while also hiding the fact that fireworks totally freak me out and i'm pretty dumb. it's all pretty dumb. it's pretty dumb that i don't feel dumb when i think of it all, not even a little bit, not even a little bit, not even at all.
I don't think I have changed altogether over the last few years, but perhaps when I reached two decades old I became more observant, or more perceptive, or maybe just a bit less ignorant. Either way, I have a lot of beef with how the world is working right now and unfortunately, I've experienced first hand how the GENERAL population of Australia (GENERALLY) is incredibly prejudiced against different ethnicities, people with disabilities and mental health issues, women, and basically just anyone who's a bit ~different~. I was on the train on New Years' Eve at around 10.15pm with Lewis and Daniel, headed back towards Northcote to get our bikes. There were a whole lot of families on the train, but not so many that there weren't seats available throughout the carriage. We sat and were just laughing and talking and I was getting embarrassed for being too enthusiastic about a Yeezus discussion when there was a bit of a disturbance behind us.
hey man, i have tourettes! you know what that is? do you know what it's like living like i do?
listen MATE, just tone it down in front of the kids, alright? there's no need to stare or frighten them
i wasn't doing anything! i have tourettes!
i don't care i have kids
So this exchange was taking place between a man with his wife and two small children, and another man who was sitting across from them. This other man was quite young, and whether he had Tourettes or not is neither here nor there because he was clearly mentally unwell, whatever his diagnosis truly was, anyone with a brain could've made that observation themselves (let alone this particular family, but more on that later).
So this exchange escalated from this initial dialogue, the older man, with a wife and children looking on, prodding and poking at the other man who was very obviously unwell, until the entire carriage was watching. What truly confuses me is what actually happened to spark this exchange in the first place, because not a peep was heard from that end of the carriage until the older man began berating the younger man, telling him to 'tone it down.' The man's wife leant awkwardly over her little daughter (who, along with her brother, was bearing witness to this entire debacle and their father's juvenile behaviour, how embarrassing for them) and pressed the security button on the side of the train wall, calling for 'assistance' to be sent to the carriage. Which was bewildering to me, because the only threats being thrown were from her own husband, not the other man she was 'reporting'. So now three raised voices are competing for space in a carriage now wrought with tension, and parents covering their children's ears while they silently shake their heads at the scene. Inter-dispersed between the hysterical and redundant argument that was going on between these three voices were the little voices of children confused (i bet he's drunk - a comment I heard from a little mouth that was particularly upsetting to me, because the small girl who said it didn't just pull it from nowhere, a mother or father or some other grown adult has taught this child that there are no sicknesses of the mind, only a body can fall ill, and any unusual behaviour is caused by substance abuse which is only for the stupid, weak and the poor), and the even MORE useless comments from adult bystanders such as i studied jujitsu for four years mate i could take him no problems - like really? Really? Is that helpful to this situation right now? I mean I understand that you're a man and it's very hard to continually have to establish your value and your worth solely though physical means and society's expectations on you are cruel and unattainable but are you really looking for that validation right now???
The whole thing ended with the young man sprinting down the train aisle as soon as he realised that authorities were being called (although none ever came thank goodness - a whole other issue however because what if an ACTUAL emergency was occurring and no-one answered the emergency button??? I digress...) and I think he got off at the next station? But I didn't properly see. And the entire carriage de-clenched, so pleased to be rid of such a smear on society...
As we rose to get off my cowardly plan was to simply glare at the man and wife as I passed them, too intimidated to actually speak my mind, but my Lewis - ever the righteous and courageous young man - tried to reason with them just before we left the train.
you know, he had tourettes, man. he couldn't help it.
it's uncomfortable for my kids.
yes, i understand that, but there's no need to bait him like that, it doesn't help anything.
oh, and you would know would you mate?
yeah actually, i would know.
well, good on you, then.
Meanwhile, I plucked up the courage to appeal to his wife.
yes, it makes our kids very uncomfortable.
i know, it's very difficult to explain to kids, but he was clearly unwell -
i actually work with people like that, so i would know, actually.
And at that point, my resolve and my whole heart crumbled when I realised that if this woman, who was calling security on a sick man who was not physically harming anyone, and was only responding to the baiting, and biting, that her own husband was taunting him with, claims to actually WORK WITH DISABLED AND MENTALLY ILL PEOPLE...it boggles the mind, and makes me absolutely exhausted, and totally hopeless.
And just tonight, I was blocked on Facebook from a old high schoolmate's profile because I called them out on a racist status that I found very offensive, and if had been read by a person of the ethnicity and religion that was being targeted in the post, I am sure they would have been extremely upset. That was literally 20 minutes ago, and my god, I am fuming.
That New Year's Eve saga on the train really made something happen within me. I could be classed as mentally ill myself, and while I do worry about the stigma towards depression and anxiety that exists within our society (which is the stigma that I suppose is directly related to my own issues), I am much more concerned about the deep seated distrust, even dislike, even hatred, of people with moderate to severe mental health problems, and conditions such as Tourettes Syndrome. I've said it before, and I'll say it again - mental health is just as important as physical health. Even if you can't see a broken mind like you can see a broken arm, it doesn't make it any less real or terrifying or unhealthy or DANGEROUS. That doesn't even address the racist culture that runs dangerously underneath our ~~~~peacefully multicultural~~~~ society. It's everywhere and I want to vomit.
Watch the above video, not for the ridiculousness that is the Sunrise morning show but for the apt commentary that the woman who filmed the racist attack on the bus makes regarding racism in Australia. Happy fucking New Years, Australia. I hope that husband and wife had a wonderful evening with their children, who will no doubt grow up to be exactly like them.
